Closest To Heaven That I'll Ever Be
by SereneCalamity
Summary: Francis and Mary share a moment. Frary. Oneshot.


**So, I only started watching this show about six months ago, and I haven't finished it yet. I definitely ship Bash/Mary more, but I thought that this was something that suited these two. It's AU-ish.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the characters and the title comes from** ** _Iris_ by Goo Goo Dolls.**

They had been promised to be wed since they were six years old, but up until a couple of months ago, there was nothing but close friendship between them. Mary Stuart was very aware of the things that happened behind the heavy, closed doors of Francis de Valois' bedroom, even though he was very discreet out of respect for her. And then there was Sebastian de Poitiers, the kings bastard, who Mary had had a little crush on since he was a child. There had been a few kisses and sweaty moments in hidden alcoves throughout the palace and in the forests, which Francis knew of as well—there were no secrets between them.

But something had shifted in the past few months...Something had shifted and they were no longer _just_ friends and each others confidants.

Mary was beginning to feel the way about Francis in the way that she was _meant_ to.

Just before Christmas last year, there had been a threat on her life. A English assassin had managed to get into the French court and had laced her food with poison. It had been her breakfast that had been brought straight from the kitchen by Greer Castleroy, and Mary had just torn off the corner of bread and had been about to spread some jam over it when Greer made a choking noise and her eyes had flown wide open.

She had died within minutes and Mary was whisked away by her guards and Francis and Bash found her around the back of the castle in the servants quarters as they were getting her ready in a carriage. Things had been hastily thrown into a trunk and Kenna was coming with her, while Lola and Aylee were going to stay behind to collect the rest of her things, and to also ensure that Greer had a proper burial. Francis had been panicked and angry and he had hugged her tightly, before vowing to find who it was that had let the impostor into the court and get so close to her. Bash hung back, but she saw the determination in his eyes as well, and she knew that the half brothers would ensure she was safe.

Mary had been away for nearly seven months, staying at a convent.

And when she came back, it just _felt_ different.

For _both_ of them.

They had always known that they would be wed, and both of them were loyal to that alliance, because they knew what it meant to their countries. They were glad that they were friends and that it wouldn't be a loveless marriage, although that love had never been _romantic_.

But it was now.

They hadn't kissed yet, not on the mouth, but it felt as though they were in this...This suspended phase, where they were actually _properly flirting_ with each other.

As though they were courting.

When they sat opposite beside each other at the dinner table, they would purposefully brush elbows or knees, even though it was _very_ obvious what they were doing, given the seats were a good foot apart. When they were practicing fencing—something Mary had always insisted on, even though it wasn't viewed as 'proper'—Francis was still as aggressive as he had always been, which was good, or she would have pulled him up on it...But it felt different. Francis was stronger and taller and a lot of the time, he won, and when he did, instead of teasing her like he used to, he would touch her arms and her hands, directing her body, leaning in close to whisper in her ear what she could have done to gain an advantage. If she won, then he would _still_ lean in close and touch her, whispering his congratulations as he gave her a quick hug and a brush of a kiss to her cheek. When they were walking around the courtyard or down by the lake or on their days out to the beach, he was never far from her side. He wouldn't crowd her and make her feel as though she couldn't spend time with her girls or with Bash, but he was always nearby.

And then there was Bash.

Mary had definitely had a childhood crush on him before, and she still loved him, he was family, but she no longer had _those_ sort of feelings for him. He still made her laugh and they spent a lot of time together because they had always got on so well, but she didn't feel like there was any chance of her falling in love with him, it just wasn't like that anymore.

Francis didn't seem to see that though.

Jealousy was obvious in his eyes and his face and his body language, and even though Mary wanted to assure him that she only had eyes for him...She also kind of liked it.

So did Bash, because he loved winding up his half brother, even though both of them knew that the dalliance between himself and Mary was now firmly over.

It had been nearly four months since she had come back and only a few months away from her eighteenth birthday, when they both knew they were going to wed within just weeks of, and Mary was getting impatient. The lingering touches and heated gazes still made her stomach clench and her heart beat faster but she wanted _more_. She wanted a whole lot more than she knew she should want before she was married, but even if there was just... _A close mouthed kiss_ then she wouldn't be going to bed as frustrated as she was now.

"Mary!" Francis called out and she looked up from where she had been tugging at some flower stems from one of the long gardens that ran near the pond. "Let's go for a ride." Mary raised her eyebrows at him and then looking past him to where one of the stable boys was holding the reigns of both of their horses. It was a beautiful day and Mary was always up for a ride, although if this was going to be a whole day of teasing, she wasn't too sure how she was going to deal.

She may potentially snap and just _demand_ that he kiss her.

"Yes. Yes, okay," Mary nodded, although her hesitation was clear. Francis stared at her for a moment, processing her hesitation, but then he smiled easily and stretched out a hand toward her. Mary took his hand, pulling herself to her feet and wiping her hands on the front of the yellow and blue dress that she was wearing. The stable boy brought the horses over, and he crouched down, lacing his fingers together to make a step up for her. Mary smiled widely at him, resting one foot in his hand and then throwing her leg over to the other side of the saddle and making herself comfortable. Francis got up onto his own horse, and then the pair of them were galloping away.

Mary's horse was faster and so she lead the way out of the court and into the fields beyond the castle, but then she tugged on the reigns a little, letting Francis and his horse lead the way, not sure where it was that he wanted to go. Francis gently urged his horse on with his heels, keeping them at a fast pace, and it took a lot for Mary to stop herself from driving her own horse faster to overtake him.

It was _always_ a competition between them, and she hated loosing, even if it wasn't a race.

Francis began slowing down as they reached the meadows over the hills. They used to come here a lot when they were younger, and they had always been accompanied by their nannies and a guard. It was beautiful, especially in the middle of summer when all the trees were green and leafy and the flowers were all blooming.

It was one of Mary's favourite places to be.

It was even better since they were now here _alone_.

Francis slowed down his horse and Mary let Ainsley slow at her own pace, a few metres in front of Francis and his horse. Francis got down and came over to her, putting up his hand to help her off, but she just rolled her eyes at him and slid down by herself, fluffing her dress out around her and then looking up at him expectantly.

"So, Francis, what are we doing here?" Mary asked, tipping her head to the side and looking up at her beau.

"Well..." Francis actually looked a little nervous. It wasn't often she saw him like that, and he dropped his eyes from hers and looked back toward his horse. "I thought that maybe we could use some time away..." he licked his lips and Mary narrowed her eyes a little, scrutinizing him. "Things have been really intense, and I feel like things have shifted with us, and I just thought—I thought that we could just—" he was stuttering and not at all like the well put-together prince that he usually was.

Mary adored it.

She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

"I think that's a brilliant idea," she murmured and he visibly calmed at his words. Mary grinned and then she was running away from him and the horses, into the meadow and through the long grass and the swaying wild flowers. Francis watched her in awe, lips parted as she laughed and spun in circles, her hair flying out around her, and her fingers playing with the stems of the flowers around her. He wasn't sure how long he stared at her, at the smile and joy on her face that made his heart swell.

Francis had had the kitchen put together a picnic, and after a while, he took it out of the saddle bags and made himself comfortable in the long grass. Mary came over to him when she was ready, pushing her hair away from her face and sitting down, eating quickly. Afterwards, they laid back in the grass, Mary's long hair silky underneath her and Francis laying close enough that their fingers touched.

He lost track of how long they talked for, but the sun was beginning to dip down by the time they both fell quiet. Francis took in a deep breath and finally stretched out his fingers, curling them around Mary's and holding her hand tightly. He felt Mary's shoulder shift next to him as she inhaled deeply.

"Francis?" Mary asked, her voice quiet.

"Yes?" Francis murmured his response, his grip getting tighter.

"I need you to kiss me," her voice came out strong, confident, like it usually did, but Francis could feel how tense she was next to him, and he knew that she was nervous. He knew the feeling, because he was as well. For a moment, they were both still, but then Francis rolled onto his side, looking down at her. Her lips were bright red from the berries and the red wine and her chest was rising and falling quickly. Francis took in a deep breath and leaned forward, pressing their lips together.

It was everything that Mary wanted.

It was everything that she had hoped their first kiss would be.

She was in her favourite place, with the light perfume of flowers in the air, the grass softer underneath her and Francis' body warm and comfortably heavy on top of her...It was perfect.

He was perfect.

 _They_ were perfect.

 **Let me know what you think x**


End file.
